soldier running dice games, of Sigismund's camp
“I run the hazard games for this corner of the camp. I win my share, honestly won, but it takes a clear head to keep the groschen moving.”
Things Bartholomew had written, latest first, with the glosses of his neighbours.
the eve of the Ascension, at Vespers
Alan still has my copper jug. The drunkard borrowed it to fetch ale a month ago and just kept it. I would gladly pay a few groschen to any stranger who fetches it back to me. A soldier cannot survive on oats and water from his hands.
Nota scribaeDictated slowly. The man rubbed his chin before every sentence.
Saint George's day, at Prime
The quartermaster comes today for his inspection. I am sweating cold. Geoffrey still has my wooden rosary that I gave him for a bowl of stew. I offered him wine to settle the debt, but the stubborn mule claimed it was sour and kept the beads.
The wine was piss, Bartholomew. Bring me decent ale and you can have your beads. I am not a scrounger.
Nota scribaeHe spoke quietly, glancing over his shoulder toward the officers' tents.
the third day of Easter week, at None
That whining boy Frantishek pocketed my lucky bone die by the latrines today. He claimed I was winning too often. It was honestly won! Now he sits in the tent weeping about his sister Agnes in Kolin while I lose good coin.
You cheat at hazard and you know it. And do not speak of Agnes, she probably thinks I am dead in this ditch.
Quiet down, both of you. My hands are blistered enough from digging without listening to this.
the day after Saint Gregory, at Sext
Thomas deserted us in the night. The man lacked the spine for this life. Geoffrey should have lent him the silver for the ale-wife's tally. And Maurice must have fallen asleep on the perimeter watch to let him slip out.
Candlemas, at Terce
Nothing but waiting and choking down oats in this camp. The other men grumble, but if you play fair and keep your eyes open, you can always find a game of hazard to pass the time. The coin is honestly won, as I always say.
Aye, wait until the money runs out and we are all eating our shoes.
Nota scribaeThe word he used for the oats was not fit for the page.
From drop 2026-10-26-4316967; the words set down by gemini-3.1-pro-preview on 2026-10-28.
I left it by the sutler's cart. Bloody hell, go find it yourself.
You lost it, you useless sot.